


There's Something About You Boy

by SunSpell80



Series: Let's See How Far We've Come [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (shh this is fiction I'm pretending she was too smart for Stanford to let her go), Canon Compliant, DON'T QUOTE ME ON ANYTHING, Deputy Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Future Fic, In my head canon Lydia and Stiles get together at the very end of high school, Lydia continues on to grad school at Stanford then gets a job there, Lydia goes to Stanford and Stiles goes to Berkeley and they have a short-distance relationship, Not a medical professional, Post-Series, Professor Lydia Martin, Scott and Stiles call her "Cece", Stiles moves to Palo Alto to live with Lydia and gets a job at the station there, The Sheriff and Melissa had a baby and named her Selena, married stydia, this starts out fluffy then turns sad then fluffy again then REALLY SAD then fluffy again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2460194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunSpell80/pseuds/SunSpell80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That deputy of yours keeping you up?”</p><p>Lydia shook her head in exasperation. “Why do you say ‘that deputy of yours’ like he’s some guy I’m having an elicit affair with, when he is in fact my husband.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>Lydia and Stiles, on the verge of turning thirty.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Something About You Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf or Nightcall (title is from the lyrics)  
> If anyone is curious as to how they're supposed to be pronouncing Xueyin, it's Shue-ae-yin. Basically. That's not an official pronunciation guide or anything. Seriously, don't quote me on anything.

Lydia groaned, then winced as the noise echoed through the near-silent office area. It was a Friday morning, which meant that the mathematics department was practically a ghost town, since nobody liked to come into work on Fridays and knew to schedule their office hours accordingly. Well, everyone except Lydia, who was still the newest to the staff after three years and always got last pick for such things.

Office hours meant her door was open in order to make her office more approachable to students, which meant anyone wandering the hall could hear every single noise she made. Which led to Xueyin, her colleague from a few doors over, to peek in with a mildly concerned expression.

“Are you okay?” She asked, leaning against the doorway.

Touching her side momentarily, Lydia nodded. “I’m fine. Just cramping, badly.” She readjusted her posture and hissed, this time grabbing her side.

Xueyin’s eyebrows raised and her eyes darted to the spot. “You sure?”

“Yes.” Lydia nodded again, massaging beneath her ribcage absently. “It started yesterday afternoon and when I Skyped with my step-mother-in-law, who’s a nurse, she said not to worry about it unless it lasted more than a day or the pain got worse.” She removed her hand again, this time bringing it to her mouth to cover a yawn.

“Tired?” There was a layer of mischief coating Xueyin’s question this time. “That deputy of yours keeping you up?”

Lydia shook her head in exasperation. “Why do you say ‘that deputy of yours’ like he’s some guy I’m having an elicit affair with, when he is in fact my husband.” The word still brought a smile to her lips even now, four months after their wedding. It just felt so wonderful to say it after all this time.

“Because,” Xueyin sidled in past the door and took one of the chairs that was meant to be reserved for her students and therefore almost never saw any use. “He may be your husband, but he is also a deputy and therefore you, my friend, are living the dream: married to a hot cop.”

“The dream, huh?” Lydia asked skeptically. It’s not that she didn’t love her husband’s chosen career path – it was part of who he was, it was what he loved, and she loved every part of him, including the part that had thought nothing of taking a bullet to the back for one of his fellow deputies a few years ago. She was pretty sure nobody ever fantasized about receiving a phone call at one in the morning informing them their boyfriend had been shot, and then not being able to sleep through his night shifts for his first month back on active duty.

Oblivious to the darker turn Lydia’s thoughts had taken, Xueyin snorted. “Oh come on. I’m sure your sex life is fantastic. Just think of all the opportunities! The damsel in distress and the hot cop to the rescue. The troublemaker being arrested by the hot cop. The–”

“Role-playing isn’t really our thing.” Lydia cut her off before she could really get on a roll. “And should we really be discussing this during my office hours?”

Xueyin sighed dramatically. “Oh, who else am I going to discuss these things with? My life is my work and it’s not as if I can talk about these matters with anyone aside from you. In case you haven’t noticed, all of our colleagues are old farts.” She added fondly.

“Excuse me.” To Lydia’s horror, her office neighbor Professor Lindle, who was one of the most beloved teachers on the Stanford campus and all that Lydia aspired to achieve in her career, stuck his head in from around the corner. “I’ll have you know that this particular old fart happens to have a wondrously satisfying sex life with his partner, and simply does not typically share in the details of said sex life because there is a time and a place for everything, and I believe such matters should be kept in the bedroom. Have a good morning ladies.” He said with a wink in Lydia’s direction, before retreating.

Lydia buried her face in her hands. “Oh my god.” She muttered under her breath, not sure whether to laugh or cry. “That just happened.”

“It did.” Xueyin appeared to be having no such struggle, as she chuckled openly. “So I suppose a change of topic is in order. How it that _husband_ of yours?”

“He’s okay.” Lydia replied automatically, before pursing her lips and rubbing at her temples slightly. She really _was_ tired, mostly because she’d had so much trouble sleeping the night before, thanks to the pain in her left abdomen. “Well, I think he’s okay. He’s been a little off, honestly.”

“Off?” Xueyin echoed, resting her chin in her open palm. “How so? Don’t tell me you’re having marital problems already.”

Lydia gave her a dubious look. “Yes, because after living together for six years, signing a piece of paper is just too much responsibility for us.” Her sarcasm masked the fact that she was just ever so slightly insecure about that. There were reasons they’d waited so long to get married, and they’d always been on the same page about it, but in the last few years leading up to their engagement, Lydia hadn’t been able to escape the niggling voice that whispered _maybe he hasn’t proposed because he doesn’t really want to marry you._

It was ridiculous, of course, and that voice should have been silenced by the modest yet beautiful ring on her left hand. And yet even today it lingered in the back of her mind, the tinniest grain of doubt. “Well, I am literally the furthest person from being married on the planet, so I know nothing about the subject.” Xueyin admitted. “But there are some differences now that you’re legal spouses, right?’

“I mean, yes.” Lydia drummed her fingers against the desk absently. “As far as insurance goes and being able to sign for each other…we’ve had a shared bank account for a few years now though, and we were pretty much married without being married. It’s not that.” _At least I hope it’s not_. “He’s just been…I can’t think of any way to describe it other than ‘off’. He acts the same, but he’s just got this look in his eye that he gets when he’s worried about something.”

She removed her fingers when she realized she was digging her nails into the wood. Her side gave another pang of hurt and Lydia forced herself to breathe out slowly as Xueyin was speaking. “Maybe it’s the job. Again, not an expert, but I’m sure being a Sheriff’s deputy can be pretty stressful. Have you asked him what’s wrong?”

“Sort of. I mean I–” Lydia’s hand suddenly flew to her mouth as a wave of pain and _nausea_ hit her.

“Lydia?”

With a strangled cry, Lydia stood up and pushed past Xueyin to race down the hall, keeping her mouth covered the whole time. She slammed into the bathroom, pushing open the closest stall, nearly tripping on her heel as she scrambled down to hunch over the toilet. After a few seconds of dry-heaving, she vomited her breakfast into the bowl.

There was a knock on the bathroom door. “Lydia?” Xueyin’s voice called as Lydia absently watched bits of Kashi swim around the toilet water. “Are you okay?”

After a few seconds, Lydia straightened up. “I’m fine.” She called back, flushing once she was sure the nausea had passed. She stood up shakily and made her way over to the sinks as Xueyin pushed inside, looking rather alarmed. “My side just spiked with pain and it made me throw up.”

“That sounds like something to worry about to me.” Xueyin remarked, eyeing Lydia while she dabbed at her now sweaty face. “You should probably get that checked out.”

Lydia shook her head, tossing the sweaty paper towels in the trash. “It hasn’t been a day yet. Melissa said–”

“She also said if it got worse, right?” Challenged Xueyin, pointing a finger at Lydia’s side. “I’d say throwing up from the pain of it would be worse. Just take the day off. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a sick day in the past three years, and trips to the emergency room are basically free for faculty.”

“I’ve got a Linear Algebra lecture at one.” Lydia argued feebly.

Xueyin rolled her eyes. “And I’m sure your students would _hate_ you if you cancelled their Friday afternoon class. For the love of all that is holy Lydia, please go to the hospital. Or I swear I will drag you there myself. Or maybe call your husband and have him come in to take you, so that I can admire his ass as he drags you away.”

“Xueyin!” Lydia protested, too pained to be properly angry.

“Sorry. I’ve been single for a very long time. It does things to you.” Her colleague explained dramatically. “But hopefully the threat of me checking out your husband will be enough motivation for you to visit the hospital on your own.”

Lydia rubbed at her temples again, which were pounding far worse than before. The headache that was coming on was bound to be one of monstrous proportions. “Fine. I will go. But keep your eyes to yourself. That ass is mine and mine alone.”

She waited until she was admitted into the Emergency Room and had spoken to both a nurse and a doctor before texting Stiles.

_Don’t panic, but I am at the ER. The pain in my abdomen got worse and Xueyin blackmailed me into coming here. They’ve done a couple of tests, I’m waiting on the results. Probably not a big deal. Don’t overreact._

Predictably, less than thirty seconds after she sent the text, her phone lit up with an incoming call.

“I told you not to panic.”

“How bad is it?” Stiles demanded. The buzz of chatter and phones ringing in the background let her know that he was at the station and was not calling her whilst in the middle of an assignment. “What tests did they do?”

She leaned back against the hospital bed, sighing heavily into the phone. “Blood and urine. I don’t know what they’re testing for, but they think it might be Gastritis.”

“Isn’t that an infection of your stomach lining? Like, the reason they warn you not to drink too much or take too much Advil? How bad does it hurt?”

“That, and your liver.” Lydia confirmed. “It’s honestly not that bad right now. It just sort of flared up this morning and Xueyin freaked out over nothing.”

She heard him say something that sounds like ‘yeah, give me one minute’ to somebody in the background. “Why’d she freak out? Were you clutching your side and screaming ‘oh god it hurts’? And what did you mean she _blackmailed_ you?”

“That part isn’t important.” She replied instantly, before biting her lip. “No, I wasn’t screaming, I just sort of threw up.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Then: “I’ll be right there.”

“Oh no you won’t be.” Lydia ordered instantly. “You’re going to stay and finish your shift and I’ll text you updates as they come. If it’s anything serious that you need to be here for, I’ll still be here when you’re done and you can come then. But you are not leaving your shift.”

Stiles _couldn’t_ afford to miss any shifts right now, not when Sheriff Smith was about to retire. She’d held the position in Santa Clara County for nearly thirty years and was halfway through her last term. Stiles had decided to run, and was almost completely sure that Deputy Brandon Hull was also going for the job. Hull was older than him, had four more years of experience on the force, and two more in the army. But Stiles had a better record than he did, was clearly the favorite among the other deputies, and Smith had flat-out told him if he decided to run she would endorse him in whatever way she could because she did not want Hull taking over her station.

Lydia still didn’t know very much about Sheriff elections (though she was certain this gap in knowledge would be well-filled over the next couple of years), but it was obvious that it was going to be a very tight race. And skipping out in the middle of shifts was not something Stiles could afford.

“Or it could be something serious and you could go suddenly into surgery and I’ll just be sitting here twiddling my thumbs waiting for a text from you and by the time I get to the hospital you could be dead.” Argued Stiles in exasperation, though there was palpable fear tainting his voice.

She rolled her eyes. “Somebody has been watching too many medical dramas. I will tell the doctors to call you if anything major happens, okay? I don’t want you leaving work and rushing to my bedside if it’s just bad cramps.”

There was a heavy sigh over the line. “You do realize I’m going to be useless here until I know if you’re going to be okay.” He grumbled and Lydia felt her heart swell slightly. It was those little comments that affected her the most, even more than heartfelt ‘I love you’s or speeches about why she was so amazing. Even after all these years it still got to her that Stiles always put her first. “I’ll stay another hour. If you haven’t heard good news by then, I’m coming.”

“It’s the hospital, Stiles.” Lydia replied dryly. “I don’t think I’ll be hearing any ‘good’ news, but I get your point. I’ll let you know as soon as I know.” She spied her doctor approaching from across the ER. “I’ve got to go. Love you.”

“I love you too. So much.” He said empathetically, probably more dramatically than the situation called for. Then again she knew how much Stiles hated hospitals and what a nightmare it was for him anytime someone he loved was hospitalized.

Her heart ached at the thought so she added a firm and reassuring, “It’ll be _fine_. I promise,” before she hung up the phone.

“Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Mrs. Stilinski.” The doctor arrived with a smile that probably either meant he hadn’t gotten the results yet or there was nothing to worry about.

“Please, call me Lydia.” As much as she loved being addressed as _Mrs. Stilinski_ more than any modern feminist probably should, it felt wrong when someone who was twice her age did it. “And trust me, I’ve been stuck in ERs for much longer than this.”

The doctor’s smile widened and Lydia felt more reassured in her theory that he had come to tell her she was overreacting to a bad stomach cramp. “Well, fortunately this will be a short ER visit for you today because I have your results. Now, you wrote in your paperwork that you had your last menstrual cycle three weeks ago. Did you notice if it was less severe than usual?”

“You mean a lighter flow?” Lydia asked bluntly, wrinkling her nose in thought. “You know, I did notice that. And I usually cramp pretty horribly during my period, but that didn’t happen this last time.”

The doctor nodded along, tapping a few things out on his tablet. “Both your urine and blood tests came back with high levels of hCG.” He informed her once he was finished.

“hCG?” Lydia frowned, wracking her brains through her fairly expansive knowledge of hormones. “Wait a minute that’s…oh my god.”

The revelation hit her and her brain short-circuited.

Oh.

 _Oh_.

Now the doctor’s wide smile made sense. “Congratulations, Lydia.” He told her warmly. “You’re pregnant.”

“Oh my god.” She repeated, before frowning. “Wait, but no.” Melissa had already suggested pregnancy as a possible cause for the cramping, and Lydia had considered it as a real possibility. It wasn’t like she and Stiles were that careful: she hadn’t been on birth control since she was twenty-five, and every once in a while they were too drunk or lazy to use condoms. But the last time they’d had unprotected sex was two weeks before her period came. “My period–”

“Implantation bleeding occurs ten to fourteen days after conception.” The doctor explained. “It’s lighter than a period normally is, but patients often mistake it for one. That’s very normal. So you are most definitely pregnant and judging from the time of the implantation bleeding you are–”

“Five weeks along.” Lydia interrupted, because their condoms had run out on a Tuesday five weeks ago, they had both been far too wrapped up in each other by the time they realized, the nearest convenience store was ten minutes away, and Stiles had said ‘I can think of worse things than you getting pregnant.’

Her hand rested on her stomach and even though it felt exactly the same as it always had she rubbed her thumb over it lovingly. Somewhere in there was a little cluster of cells that would grow into a tiny human being. _Her_ tiny human being. It was such a wonderful and terrifying thing to be responsible and suddenly all Lydia wanted was for Stiles to be there so that he could share this with her. She moved her hand automatically to her phone, prepared to call him and tell him to get to the hospital _right the hell now_ before her brain started functioning again.

Back before they were engaged, and Lydia was more than ready to _be_ engaged, she’d considered just proposing to Stiles and having done with it. This wasn’t the 50’s, after all, and the whole tradition of the man buying the woman an expensive ring to prove his worth was antiquated and stupid (particularly since _she_ was the higher-earning one in their relationship). But part of her kept getting tripped up on her little girl fantasy of having an elaborate proposal put together just for her, watching him go down on one knee and procure a ring…and damnit, she _wanted_ the ring.

So she remained patient and one weekend when they went home to Beacon Hills for a visit, Stiles finally came through. And Lydia was glad that she hadn’t taken over his moment when she saw how much thought he’d put into his proposal and how much obvious joy he’d gotten out of planning it. The only thing that bothered her was that she would never get to do anything that special for him.

Now she knew she’d been wrong. Stiles might have gotten the proposal, but this…this was all hers. This was her special thing and she was going to do it right.

“I’m referring you to an Obstetrician here at the hospital for an early ultrasound in two weeks.” The doctor was saying, drawing Lydia’s attention back to him. “Having muscle pain is fairly common, but when a patient is having severe pain we try to schedule them for an early ultrasound just as a precaution.” Lydia felt a trace of anxiety well up and the doctor smiled reassuringly at her. “Usually it’s nothing to worry about. Like I said, just a precaution, so if there is anything to worry about we can monitor it early on and fix it before it becomes a problem.”

Lydia nodded, her head spinning from how radically her life had shifted within the course of a few minutes. She laughed suddenly, covering her mouth when the doctor looked at her curiously. “Sorry,” she told him sheepishly, unable to keep the huge grin from her face. “It’s just, when I was talking to my husband earlier, I said I doubted I would be hearing good news. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to be proven wrong.”

She ended up sending Stiles a text telling him it was just a cramp and she was overreacting, which was _technically_ true. It _was_ a cramp, caused by pregnancy, and she _was_ overreacting, since she was pregnant, not dying. Still, lying to him left an uneasy feeling in her gut. They never lied to each other. It was one of the foundations of their relationship.

Well, that actually wasn’t true. Stiles had lied to her when he was planning his proposal, so Lydia decided not to feel guilty about this. White lies were necessary for surprises.

She was discharged in time for her lecture, but she’d already sent the email letting them know class was cancelled so it was a lost cause. Besides, Lydia doubted she’d be able to concentrate on teaching complex matrices for a whole hour while knowing that she had this little ball of _life_ inside her. Just thinking about it made her dizzy with a level of joy she had only ever felt on her wedding day.

There wasn’t time to come up with a super elaborate plan, so Lydia decided to just go the classic route of dressing up, cooking a nice meal, and giving him the news in the form of a present. A t-shirt or a mug that said “World’s Best Dad” would be cute, but too cheesy for her taste. A tiny pair of shoes or article of baby clothing would also be cute, but she wasn’t sure what size or gender the baby would be. Eventually she just folded her test results neatly inside a box and wrapped that.

Then came the matter of cooking. Because Stiles used to cook sometimes to help his dad out, he was more accustomed to it and had naturally taken on the role of primary chef when they moved in together. Which Lydia had been fine with, until Stiles had cracked one too many jokes about her cereal recipe being to die for. Then of course she’d had to prove him wrong by attempting to make Beef Wellington, the most difficult dish she could think of. The first try had gone terribly. So had the second and the third. But Lydia was determined and confident in her ability to master any skill. And eventually over the years her Beef Wellington had come to receive many a praise and Stiles had stopped checking that the smoke detector was still working whenever Lydia used the oven.

She’d actually grown to love cooking and found it incredibly therapeutic whenever she needed to de-stress. Her arsenal of recipes had increased but her Beef Wellington was still her pride and joy, as well as being Stiles’s favorite, so it always made it’s appearance at special occasions. Which today certainly was.

Lydia hummed along to the music playing from her iPhone as she pulled the wrapped tenderloin from the oven and set it on the cooling rack on top of the stove. She spun around on her toes before freezing mid-twirl as it occurred to her that she was _literally_ barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen.

The thought made her snort, then laugh out loud. Unexpected bouts of laughter seemed to be a problem today, likely a symptom of sheer, unequivocal joy. It was as if there was so much happiness inside her she couldn’t contain it and she just needed Stiles to be with her and share in it so that she wouldn’t have to anymore…

She heard the front door to their apartment unlocking and felt her stomach twist in a combination of nerves and excitement.

“Lydia?” Stiles called, poking his head through the door first like he always did when he came home, the rest of his him following shortly after. He caught sight of her and she could practically see the tension leave his body. By the droop of his shoulders she could tell he was exhausted, but his smile was fond and he looked so incredibly wonderful to her. Her wonderful, wonderful husband. The father of her child.

“Hey.” She greeted with a smile she hoped was half as warm. “How was work?”

“Annoying.” He rolled his eyes as he came into the kitchen area. “All I wanted was a slow day, so of course everyone and their mother had to call in with tips that turned out to be false leads. Pretty sure I burned through two tanks – _whoa_. What’s the occasion?” Stiles asked in a tone that clearly conveyed he was worried that he’d missed something very important such as their anniversary or her birthday.

Lydia wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into his side. “Nothing, just felt like making a nice meal at the end of a long week. I’m sorry about work. At least you don’t have to work tomorrow, right?”

“Right.” Agreed Stiles, leaning over the Beef Wellington and inhaling deeply. “Oh god. You know what, it was all worth it. All of the crap, that totally asinine prank call I was on for twenty minutes, dealing with Hull…all of it was worth it because I got to come home to…to…this _nirvana_.”

With a pout, Lydia hip checked him lightly. “I thought you were going to say it was worth it because you got to come home to _me_.”

“Oh.” He looked down at her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Yeah, I guess that too. _Hello_ Lydia. How was your day?”

Lydia scoffed, trying to hide her smile at his antics. “My day consisted of going to the hospital, grocery shopping and then cooking.”

Stiles pulled back a bit to examine her, worry creasing his forehead. “How are you feeling? I was expecting to come home to you lying in bed with a heating pad, not preparing a gourmet meal.” His eyes flicked to her side. “Does it still hurt?”

It did, a little, but Lydia hadn’t been able to notice it through all of the adrenaline and excitement. “Not really. And you know I find cooking relaxing. Honestly Stiles, you’d think I never touched a stove the way you’re acting.” She added with a poke to his chest, before smacking is hand away from the food. “No touching! The rice’ll be ready in five minutes, then you can eat all you want.”

“Fine, fine.” He backed away after planting another kiss to her head. “I’ll just shower and change real quick.”

She almost told him not to bother with the shower, before realizing she had no way to explain why besides the fact that she was predicting an evening of hot, sweat-inducing sex. It wasn’t that she had planned on sex as part of the surprise, it was just inevitable with the way her body had been reacting to him. Well, he could just shower again later. Or they could shower together…

The sound of the shower turning on made her cheeks hot with anticipation and Lydia squirmed uncharacteristically as she stirred the rice. She needed to get control over herself or she was just going to jump him the second he walked back out here and the whole plan would go caput.

 _Finish dinner, eat dinner, give him the present, then sex. You’ve got this Martin_. She instructed herself, the last name a force of habit. Sometimes she still caught herself signing documents with it as well, which wasn’t a huge disaster since she’d just changed her last name to her middle name and would just tack on the ‘Stilinski’ to her signature in such cases. Her last name had always been such a piece of her she hadn’t been able to part with it completely. The only reason she hadn’t kept it as it was because she knew it could be confusing for kids sometimes when their parents didn’t have the same last name. That, and the small, secret thrill she got out of being Mr. and Mrs. Stilinski.

The shower turned off and less than a minute later Stiles emerged from their bedroom in jeans and a dark red t-shirt, hair damp and still dripping slightly. As much as she enjoyed him in his uniform, he looked _so good_ in red and Lydia couldn’t help staring as he entered the kitchen. She quickly dolled out their portions, making sure that he got the least cooked pieces of broccoli.

“You don’t have to do that, I can fix my own plate.” Stiles protested, coming up to the counter.

Lydia waved the tongs in his general direction. “Sit.” She ordered. When he raised his eyebrows, she explained, “If I put this much effort into a meal, I have to make sure it’s properly presented, you know that.”

“That you’re a bit OCD? Yeah, I’ve noticed that once or twice.” He teased good-naturedly, backing away from the counter and opening the fridge instead.

“OCPD.” Lydia corrected, watching as he pushed through the contents of their refrigerator. “ _What_ are you looking for?”

Stiles emerged with a bottle of wine and a triumphant grin. “This. I figured since it’s Friday and we’ve both had long weeks, we owe it to ourselves.” He pulled out too glasses and began yanking on the rubber stopper.

“Um, actually…” Lydia began, eyeing the bottle with longing. “I have a bit of a headache tonight, I don’t think wine is a good idea.”

Stiles paused in his efforts. “Are you sure you’re okay? Cramping and a headache? Oh.” He set the bottle down. “It’s not that time of the month, is it?”

It took a great deal of self-control not to laugh outright at the irony. “No. It definitely is not.” She watched him put the bottle and glasses away with a pang of remorse. Neither of them held back when they went out on social occasions, and every once in a while they would stay in and get drunk, but usually they didn’t drink all that much. And while Lydia would sometimes have a glass of red wine while she was taking a bath or revising her syllabus over the weekend, Stiles never drank by himself. So if she wasn’t having wine then he wasn’t either.

He poured them both glasses of water instead and brought them over to the table as she carried the plates. “Did you take something?”

“Maybe after we eat.” She tugged him back toward the table when he started toward the bathroom. “ _Sit_. I’ll take something later. Right now I just want us to enjoy this fantastic meal that I have spent hours preparing, literally slaving over it until it was perfect, this food that I made specifically because you love it so much–”

Stiles laughed and sat down. “Lydia. You don’t have to fish for compliments. It’ll be written all over my face the second I take a bite.” He waited for her to sit down too before cutting a piece and popping it in his mouth. “Mmmph.” His eyes widened and he made an expression of exaggerated bliss. “See? _Orgasmic_.”

“That is not the face you make when you cum, but nice try.” Lydia replied casually, causing him to choke slightly as he tried to drink water and snort with laughter at the same time. “Smooth.”

The next few minutes passed with them simply sitting in silence and enjoying their food. Well, Stiles was enjoying his food and Lydia was eating an occasional bite while watching his arm muscles contract every time he realized he was putting his elbows on the table and would remove them, his throat move and flex as he swallowed, his tongue swiping over his lips –

“Um, Lydia?” She refocused her attention to see Stiles was looking at her partly in amusement, partly in concern. “Is something wrong? You’re looking at me like you want to eat me.”

She arched her eyebrows. “And that is a _bad_ thing?”

“Possibly.” He leaned back in his chair until two of the legs were in the air. Lydia shot him a stern look and he quickly stopped. “I mean, if you literally wanted to eat me. That would be a very bad thing. You could be a Wendigo in disguise or something.”

“The last time I checked, Wendigos couldn’t make themselves look like other people.” She replied, resigned to having this ridiculous conversation. It’s not like discussing things like monstrous cannibals while they were eating was that unusual for them.

“Well maybe _you’re_ a Wendigo and you’ve just been keeping it from me.”

Lydia shook her head. “I can’t be a Banshee _and_ a Wendigo.”

“Why not?” Stiles countered. “You have to admit, we still know basically nothing about Wendigos. We don’t know what the rules are. For all I know, you could’ve been bitten by a Wendigo and turned into one and that’s why you were at the hospital today.”

“I really don’t think that’s how that works.” She took a long gulp of water and rolled her eyes. “And why wouldn’t I have just attacked you as soon as you walked in the door? Why bother feeding you?”

“To fatten me up, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“Weren’t you supposed to have a class today?” Stiles questioned, now that his Wendigo theory was out of his system. “Did you have to cancel or were you able to make it?”

“I cancelled it preemptively.” She explained. “I sent an email telling my students I wasn’t feeling well and wished them a happy early weekend. A few of them actually replied back saying the hoped I got better. It was very sweet.”

“Hmm.” Stiles swallowed the enormous bit he’d just taken and asked clearly: “Were these students _male_?”

Lydia jabbed her fork in his direction. “I’ll have you know that my students appreciate my dry humor, fair grading, and willingness to put in the time for anyone who needs extra help. If they are concerned about my well-being, it’s because the love me as a teacher, not because they have a crush on me…yes, most of them were male. There was one email from a girl though!”

“Was she a lesbian?”

“I don’t know!” Lydia huffed. “I don’t discuss things like sexual orientation with my students, Stiles. I attempt to foster and bring out their love for mathematics and scholarship. And your suggestion that my students only care about me because they think I am hot is nothing short of degrading.”

“Sorry.” Chastised, Stiles reached across the table and placed his hand on her briefly. “I’m sure they love you for your genius and your teaching abilities.”

“ _Thank_ you.” Lydia sniffed, before removing her hand and admitting sheepishly, “You’re probably right though. Every time I leave the lecture hall I catch at least five students checking out my ass.”

“Well, obviously. I’d be jealous, but if I’d ever had a teacher who looked like you I’d be doing the same thing, so it’s hard to blame them.” He cheeked, scraping the remnant of food off his plate. “Actually, if you had ever been my teacher I’m pretty sure I would’ve gotten a zero on my first exam because I wouldn’t have been able to focusing on anything but your face during class.”

She took one last bite of her broccoli before wiping her hands daintily with the napkin. “That’s sweet, but we both know it’s not my face you would have been focusing on.” She stood up and pushed Stiles back down when he made to follow her. “Hold on. I have a surprise for you.”

He watched her open one of the cupboards and pull out the present. “Wait a second. I thought you said this wasn’t a special occasion?”

“I lied.” Lydia said simply, shutting the cupboard and placing the present on the table next to his lap. “Open it.” She ordered, feeling giddy.

Stiles reached for the package cautiously. “Okay. I’m sort of confused. Is this a belated birthday present?”

“I guess you could say that.” Lydia felt herself quivering and knew any second she was going to start bouncing with excitement, so she sat back down in an attempt to control herself. “Seriously. Open it now.”

He was probably tearing the paper off at a typical speed, but it just felt far too slow. After what seemed like ages, he finally got to the plain white box and furrowed his eyebrows for a moment before lifting off the top.

Stiles glanced up at her at the sight of the papers. “These aren’t divorce papers, are they?” He joked.

“Stiles!” Lydia reprimanded lightly. “Just read them, please.”

She watched him unfold them, his eyes glancing over the words until they settled on one particular spot and suddenly grew huge. After a few seconds, they darted over to her. “You’re pregnant?” He asked in disbelief.

Lydia nodded, breathless. “Yeah.” Stiles continued to stare at her like he was in some state of shock. “I found out when I went to the hospital today. That’s why my side was hurting. Sometimes pregnant women can have muscle pain in their back or sides. It’s not unusual but the doctor referred me to an Ob/Gyn so I can have an early ultrasound–”

“Wait.” Stiles interrupted, starting to come back to himself. “There’s something wrong with the pregnancy?”

She frowned, not sure why that was what he fixated on out of everything she’d just told him. “No. It’s just a precaution so that if there _is_ something, they can monitor it and stay a few steps ahead.”

He nodded, gaze returning to the paper and reading it over again before returning it to the box. “Wow. Wow, Lydia this is amazing.”

“I know.” Lydia let a hesitant smile creep onto her face, still unsure about his reaction. She’d expecting something a little… _emotional._ “I’m so excited.” _Aren’t you excited?_ She wanted to ask, but didn’t.

“Yeah.” For a brief second she saw wonder and amazement cross Stiles’s face and Lydia thought _aha! There’s the reaction I was waiting for_. But then it was gone, replaced by that same slightly worried look she’d been seeing for the past few weeks, and then by a bland, blank smile. “Me too.” His words rang true to her, but there was something slightly wrong with them. He stood up, walked around the table and kissed her on the forehead. Lydia thought she saw his hand twitch toward her stomach. “I’m going to wash the dishes, okay?”

Lydia watched him start to clear the table, something twisting in her gut. “It’s fine, I can get them.”

“No, no, you cooked, so I clean.” Stiles said distantly.

She nodded absently, staring at the box with the papers inside. She hadn’t planned this far. Stiles was supposed to see the test results, have some kind of emotional response, scoop her up in his arms, and make sweet, passionate love to her. Why wasn’t that happening? What had she done wrong? Was he mad that she lied to him about it just being a cramp?

Slowly, Lydia stood up and moved to their bedroom, feeling her eyes beginning to sting with tears. No, it was more than that and she knew it was. That nagging voice in the back of her mind swelled until it was an overwhelming shout, louder than any of the whispers she’d ever been subjected to.

 _He doesn’t want a baby with you_.

Tears blurred her vision and she swiped at her eyes angrily. No. She was being ridiculous. Of course Stiles wanted a baby with her, they’d discussed it years ago. It was one of the reasons they’d waited so long to get married: because they knew once they were married they’d want kids. And she knew that hadn’t changed. Stiles _loved_ kids, he adored his half-sister Cece, and was always pointing out cute babies to her whenever they went places. He constantly said things like ‘when we have kids we won’t’ or ‘ourkids will.’ He wanted a baby with her.

It was funny when you knew intellectually that something was true and couldn’t convince your heart.

After a few minutes of her just sitting on their bed crying, Lydia heard a cautious knock on the door. “Hey, why’d you come in here?” She wiped at her eyes and tried to erase all signs of crying, but then of course she had to sniff loudly and give it all away. “ _Lydia_.”

“I’m fine.” Lydia denied as Stiles sat down on the bed next to her, turning away from him. “It’s just the stupid pregnancy hormones. It’s fine.”

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. After a minute, he mumbled into her hair: “I’m pretty sure you were pregnant this morning and this didn’t happen. And yesterday. And the day before that.”

“It’s stupid.” She replied because right then it _was_ stupid. Being in Stiles’s arms made her feel so right, so loved and it was ridiculous to ever think that he didn’t love her. “I’m just being stupid.”

“You’re never stupid.” He refuted, before sighing. “Look, I’m sorry if I was an ass. I was just processing. But I am so excited about this baby, Lydia. Really, I am.”

Lydia turned around to look at him. “Really?”

“Are you kidding?” Stiles blurted. “This is all I’ve ever wanted.” Her face must have given something away because he persisted. “Lydia. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I just…” She hesitated, before plunging forward. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? This is what you’ve wanted, ever since you were a kid. Having me. Being married to me. Having a baby with me. It was, like, this lifelong quest and now you have everything you ever dreamed of. But what if it was just mostly the thrill of the chase?” His expression was shocked and more than a little hurt. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, what if what you think is love was actually you just pursuing your childhood dream and one day you’re going to wake up and realize that this actually isn’t what you want?”

It still sounded awful when she worded it like that and Lydia couldn’t blame Stiles for shaking his head in disbelief. “Have you really been thinking that?” He asked, dark eyes searching hers for answers.

“Not really.” Lydia shifted uncomfortably. “It’s just, you know, a lingering doubt from before we were engaged. And I know it’s ridiculous but it’s just…how I feel.”

Stiles stared at her for a few more seconds before smiling unexpectedly and taking her hand in his. “Lydia. I have liked you since I was nine years old.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I _know_ that Stiles, that’s the entire–”

“Wait, hold on!” He objected, tugging on her hand. “I have liked you since I was nine years old, but I have been in _love_ with you since I was seventeen years old. Okay? It’s different. You were my desperate, unattainable crush, and then you became one of my best friends. And suddenly things that would have been crazy before, like calling you just because I wanted to talk, or showing up at your house past midnight, or holding your hand or resting my hand on your back…those things weren’t crazy anymore. They were things within my reach, things I was _encouraged_ to do. So when I fell in love with you, you weren’t some girl on a pedestal. You were just Lydia.”

Lydia simply stared at him for a moment, taking in the earnest, serious lines of his face. Then she cupped his cheek with her free hand and leaned in to kiss him softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so flattered to be called ‘just Lydia’ before.” She whispered as she pulled back. “You really are happy about this?”

“Yes.” Stiles squeezed her hand gently. “I am so happy. And I’m excited to convert the spare bedroom into a nursery and buy baby clothes and pick out a name–”

“Oh.” She blurted out suddenly. “That reminds me of something I’d been thinking and I wanted to know if it was okay with you.” Stiles eyed her curiously and Lydia bit her lip. “Well, I was thinking, and maybe it might be sort of weird, but…I sort of have a request for baby names. And it’s probably way too early in the pregnancy to be thinking of this, but it’s something I’ve sort of wanted for a while and I…” Stiles was giving her a semi-patient _get to the point_ look and Lydia swallowed. “If it’s a girl I want to name her Allison.” She admitted. “And I know that might be weird and I don’t know if maybe Scott was thinking of naming one of his kids after her, but I just…it’s important to me.”

There were a million reasons why, of course. Because Allison had been her first genuine friend. Because she’d changed Lydia and made her a more thoughtful, caring person. Because she’d given her life to save her. But mostly because without Allison, there wouldn’t have been a Lydia and Stiles. It was something that had been on her mind prominently on her wedding day, how delighted Allison would have been to see the fruits of her matchmaking finally come through. Typically Lydia thought naming your kids after dead people was sort of strange, but with Allison it just felt right.

She studied Stiles’s face, trying to gauge his reaction. Over the years he’d let go a lot of the guilt he felt over Allison’s death, though there were still traces of it that cropped up every once in a while. Lydia wondered if this would be one of those occasions.

“I think it’s great.” He said warmly after a while and Lydia exhaled in relief. “I don’t think that’s weird at all. And we can ask Scott, but I don’t think he’ll mind. I mean, I doubt he was planning on,” Stiles’s eyes sparkled with mischief suddenly, “naming any of his kids after the first person he banged. _That’s_ a little weird. Plus, think about having to explain it to his wife? ‘Allison Argent was my first great love, the girl I lost my virginity to, and I’d like to name our daughter after her.’ Besides, even if he was planning all that, you have as much of a right to her name as he does and we just happened to beat him to it. He could still use the name if he wanted, we’d just have two Allisons in the family. Might make Thanksgiving and Christmas kind of confusing.”

“So you’re in?” Lydia cut in, smiling at his easy acceptance. “Are you sure you’re not just agreeing because you feel bad for making me cry? You didn’t have your heart set on any other girl names?”

“We could name her after the first person that _I_ banged.” Stiles suggested, ducking out of the way when Lydia attempted to hit him over the head. “‘Auntie Malia, why do we have the same name?’ ‘Well honey when your father and I were hormonal teenagers–’”

“I was thinking you might want to name a potential daughter Claudia.” Lydia huffed, done with his sass. He looked at her with wide eyes and she wondered if maybe he’d forgotten in his attempt to appease her. “I mean, we still could if you want to. Who’s to say we’ll have just one daughter? Maybe we’ll have so many we actually start running out of names and actually will have to name one Malia.” She babbled nervously as Stiles continued to stare at her wordlessly. “Or maybe we won’t have any daughters at all and none of this will be an issue. There’s a fifty percent chance this baby will be a boy, so–”

“No.” He shook his head abruptly, eyes darkening the same way they had earlier. “No, I don’t want to name any of our kids after my mom.”

There was that same look again, the look she’d been seeing for weeks. “What’s wrong?” Lydia coaxed, certain now that she wasn’t imagining things. “Something’s bothering you, it’s been bothering you for the past few weeks. What’s going on?”

Stiles sighed and Lydia thought he was about to shut her out again when he admitted, “It’s just, ever since my birthday I’ve just been feeling sort of _old_.” Lydia raised her eyebrows, sure she was hearing incorrectly. “I mean, I’m almost thirty-two.”

Lydia opened her mouth, prepared to remind Stiles that she was seven months olderthan him and far closer to turning thirty than he was, before it registered that he’d said thirty- _two_. “Um, sorry, did I miss a few birthdays? Because last I checked you just turned twenty-nine.” A horrible thought suddenly occurred to her. “How old was your mom when she died?” Lydia asked gently.

The pained look that crossed Stiles’s face told Lydia her suspicion was on target. “Thirty-five.” He paused. “She was thirty-two when she was diagnosed.”

“Oh, hon.” The term of endearment slipped out as she reached up to rub his shoulder. They weren’t very big on pet names, but sometimes they just came out naturally.

“The other week, I…” Stiles swallowed thickly before continuing. “I tried to ask someone to grab a folder from my desk. I kept saying ‘Can you grab the…the… _thing_ , you know the thing, the…’ It was on the tip of my tongue, but I just couldn’t say it. I couldn’t think of the word ‘folder.’” He looked devastated. “I mean, I know that happens to people all the time and it’s not necessarily aphasia, but I don’t know, it scared me and I haven’t been able to shake it.”

Lydia was quiet for a few moments as she processed this. Finally she said, “You know your mom was really young when she got FTD.” She told him gently. “Abnormally young. And the chances of you getting it–”

“The chances?” Stiles laughed hollowly. “That’s the thing. No one knows the chances. All the know for sure is that it does run in my family and that I might get it and I might not. There’s no way of knowing. I just have to wait and see.”

“What I was going to _say_ ,” She persisted. “Was that the chances of you getting it as young as she did are almost infinitesimally small. Or is that something that runs in the family too?”

Stiles considered this. “No, I guess not. My great-uncle was in his sixties, I think.”

Lydia nodded, smoothing her fingers over his shoulder blade. “That’s more normal. It usually affects people in their late forties to early sixties. Now that’s not ideal, but if that does happen, at least we still have plenty of time, right?” _No_ , her head screamed at her, _no that’s not enough time that’s not nearly enough time I need him._ This wasn’t about her, though. “So you don’t need to feel like it’s all going to come crashing down in three years because I promise you _it will not_.”

He looked at her with watery eyes. “Lydia. Even if it doesn’t happen then, it’s probably gonna happen eventually. And then what will – I can’t – Lydia, I don’t think I can be a parent.” Stiles choked out, breath coming out unevenly now. “It’s not that I don’t want to, _I do_ , I just don’t think I can. Because what if one day everything’s fine and then our kid’s having to take care of me and then I’m just gone – I can’t do that. I can’t.”

“Hey.” Lydia released his shoulder and hand simultaneously, grabbing his face gently. “Hey. _No_. You don’t have to worry about that. You are not going to go through life worrying about how everyone is going to manage once you’re dead. First of all, that is a horribly morbid and depressing way to live. Second, I’m not sure when we jumped from _possibly_ to _probably_ , but the odds are you _won’t_ get FTD.”

“But if I do –”

“If you do,” She continued, stroking his cheeks. “This child will have to live without a father. And I will do everything I can to be two parents for him or her, but I won’t have to do it alone. I’ll have my parents, and your dad, and Melissa, and Scott, and the whole entire pack really.”

Stiles started breathing more steadily. “They’re all back in Beacon Hills though. It won’t be the same.”

“How about I make you a deal?” Lydia offered. “If you get FTD, we move back to Beacon Hills.”

“Your job–”

She shook her head. “Fuck my job. I’ll settle for the mathematics department at Davis if I have to. Our child’s happiness will be my number one priority, I promise you.” She watched as Stiles slowly got his breathing back under control. “What do you think?”

He exhaled heavily before shooting her a watery grin. “I think you’re just about the only person on the planet who would call a job at Davis ‘settling’.”

Lydia laughed lightly, leaning in to kiss him on the forehead before lowering her right hand, leaving her left to absently caress his face. “They would be lucky to have me and you damn well know it.”

“I do.” Stiles leaned into her touch, kissing the edge of her palm. “You are amazing, Lydia. And I’m so happy to be married to you and that you’re having my baby. I’m just…scared.”

“Me too.” She admitted, brushing her thumb over his lips. “I think that’s normal though? We’re first time parents. We’re supposed to do things like over-sanitize pacifiers and call 911 every time our baby has a fever and –”

“Have panic attacks over the possibility of getting horrible brain diseases and leaving our baby fatherless?” Stiles suggested, the joke falling completely flat.

Lydia rested her head against his shoulder. “Come here.” She urged, tugging his other shoulder around toward her and hugging him. “I know losing your mom so young was hard, and my heart hurts for you. But it didn’t break you. It didn’t ruin you. And god forbid if the same thing happens to you, it won’t break or ruin our child.”

She felt him sigh into her hair. “I know…I worry about you too. I don’t want to leave you. It was so…” He sighed again, this time heavier. “... _hard_ on my dad, losing Mom. The first few years, I thought I was gonna lose him too.” His admission was quiet and Lydia squeezed him tighter. “I’d come home off the bus and he’d just be sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle in his hand, staring into space. I might not have been broken, but he was.”

Rubbing her hand up and down his arm, Lydia reminded him, “But he got better. He pulled himself out of it to be there for you. And he’s happy now.”

“Yeah.” Stiles pulled away and averted his eyes, chewing on his thumbnail. “Yeah, and I’m happy he’s happy. I mean, it’s not like I’m _un_ happy that he married Melissa. That’s all we ever wanted, me and Scott I mean, when we were kids. For our parents to get married. And I love Melissa, and I love Cece and you know I love Scott, that goes without saying.”

He stopped talking and Lydia tapped him on the shoulder lightly. “But?”

Stiles shook his head slightly, almost like he was angry with himself. “It’s like he got a brand new start at a family. One without a history of horrible mental problems. It’s like every time he passes a milestone he relaxes a little more. When he and Melissa got to their sixth wedding anniversary without her being diagnosed with a life threatening illness. When Cece made it to third grade without getting sent to child psychologist for behavioral issues. And then there’s me with my anxiety and my sleep problems and slight PTSD. Honestly FTD would just be the icing on the cake at this point.”

His way of thinking was so completely incorrect, it took Lydia a few moments to really think it through and come up with a response that wasn’t basically telling him he was an idiot. “I don’t think your dad sees it that way.” She said carefully. “To him I think it’s probably like his family is just growing. I don’t think he sees you and your mom as his ‘defective family’ or anything like that. If anything, he’ll probably always love you a little more because it was just the two of you for so long. You guys love each other and understand each other the way most fathers and sons don’t. I’ve always admired your relationship, even before I loved you. I wished I had one like that with my parents.” Lydia admitted.

Stiles waited for her to finish before replying. “I know. I know it’s dumb. And I know I’m ungrateful for complaining about my relationship with my dad. I’m lucky to be so close. I guess it’s just one of those lingering doubts, you know?”

“It’s how you feel.” Lydia argued. “You can’t ignore how you feel. Sometimes you just need someone to keep reminding you that how you feel is in fact the complete _opposite_ of the truth until you get it. And I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of marriage, though perhaps not an eloquent one.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re right.” Stiles agreed with a smile, kissing her first on her lips, then her nose. “So, speaking of my family, at what point are we allowed to tell everyone about our little bundle of joy? Since I’m pretty sure I remember which night the miracle of life took place – _vividly_ – I think you’re at around five weeks, correct?”

Lydia rolled her eyes at his chose of phrasing. “Six weeks on Tuesday. That’s only about halfway through the first trimester, and if things go badly I don’t want everyone knowing.” It’s not that she wouldn’t tell the people closest to her if she had a miscarriage – leaning on people was something she’d learned how to do properly over the years – she just couldn’t stand the thought of everyone getting excited and letting them all down. “Typically parents tell other people around ten or twelve weeks.”

Stiles’s eyes bugged. “So wait. You’re telling me I have to keep this a secret from Scott for up to _a month and a half?_ Lydia, that may be impossible.”

“Fine, we’ll tell Scott.” Lydia relented, mostly because they were due for a visit in two weeks and she was pretty sure Scott would be able to sense she was pregnant with his werewolf abilities. “And my mom. Oh and we should probably let Melissa know too in case she has any advice – god damnit. We might as well tell both of our families when we go up there.”

“Sounds good to me.” Stiles agreed, placing a hand on her stomach tentatively. “Except for Cece, because the squirt doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut about anyth – oh!” He exclaimed excitedly, eyes meeting Lydia’s and there it was. That look of absolute wonder and joy she’d been waiting for since he read the test results. “I think the baby moved! I think it moved!”

“Stiles.” Lydia interjected, amused. “That was my stomach digesting my dinner. The baby is basically a tadpole right now. It barely has a fetal heartbeat.”

“Oh.” His voice dropped in disappointment, but his face was still awed as he leaned in to speak directly to her stomach. “Hi little Ally or…” He looked back up at Lydia. “We should probably think of a name in case it’s a boy so we don’t just call it Allison and he comes out of the womb with gender confusion. I mean I’d still love him regardless, but I don’t want to make life any more difficult for him than it has to be.”

“Hmm.” Lydia flipped her hair over her shoulder and pretended to think while Stiles bent back down toward her stomach. “I think we should call him Jackson.”

Stiles whipped his head up so fast she saw him get whiplash. “Lydia!” He protested, rubbing his undoubtedly cricked neck.

“What?” Lydia asked innocently. “He was the first person I ever banged.”

“You are incorrigible. _Incorrigible_ , Lydia.”

She ruffled his hair fondly. “I try.”

“Mmm.” Stiles caught her hand and pressed his mouth against it. “So I have a potentially very stupid question.”

“Which is?” Lydia asked, watching his lips ghost over her knuckles.

“We are allowed to have sex even though you’re pregnant, right?” He questioned. “I mean, it won’t hurt the baby?”

Stiles looked so genuinely anxious at the thought of having to remain celibate for nine months that Lydia was almost, _almost_ tempted to tell him ‘no’ and watch him spiral into a panic until he figured out that she was kidding. But then he closed his mouth over her little finger and Lydia threw that ridiculous idea out the window.

“It’s about damn time.” She declared, pushing him down onto the mattress.

_Fin_

**Author's Note:**

> I don't discuss Stiles's proposal because I am deluding myself that I'm going to write it someday.  
> This is basically part of my massive Teen Wolf post-series head canon that includes things like Melissa and the Sheriff getting married and having a kid, Scott going to veterinary school at UC Davis, and Stydia living together for years and years and years in a tiny apartment in Palo Alto before finally getting their shit together and getting married (I have this really amusing head canon that when they first get together, everyone's warning them like "Don't get married young. Don't even think about getting married until you graduate high school. You think you love each other but you're just kids. You'll probably break up in college." Then they graduate college and Lydia starts grad school and Stiles starts his job and they move in together and people are like "Are you two getting married? You should probably establish yourselves a little more before getting married." Then by the time Lydia graduates grad school people are asking "When are you guys getting married?" And then with each progressing year people get more and more impatient and by the time they announce their engagement, everyone who said they were going to break up in college is shouting "Finally! Oh thank god!")  
> I read something on Tumblr the other day about how someone's biggest turn-off in a Stydia baby fic was the baby being named Allison…oops. I was already writing this at that point and that's been my head canon for a while, for all the reasons Lydia expressed. Allison kind of made Stydia, you know? Lydia first actually got to know Stiles at the dance Allison forced her to go to with Stiles, and then in Season 2 we saw that double date…nobody can tell me that Lydia wasn't there because Allison wheedled her into it. And nobody can tell me it wasn't because Allison wanted Stiles and Lydia together.  
> I am not a medical professional and I've never been pregnant, so I don't actually know what the hell I'm talking about with this pregnancy stuff. All of that information is from very limited web browsing, plus a story my dad told me about how my mom had some pain in her side and they thought something was terribly wrong with her and went to the ER and that's how they found out she was pregnant with my sister. Plus, er, the too lazy for condoms thing. That was sadly also part of the story.
> 
> Edit: I did some actual research on Sheriff elections and Sheriff departments in general, and I found out Sheriff Laurie Smith has been the Sheriff in Santa Clara since 1998 and was the first female Sheriff of California and that was way too badass not to include. Everything I read about her fit my imagination for what my fictional Sheriff Granholm was supposed to be, so I just decided to pay tribute to this amazing woman and name this fictional version after her.


End file.
